My Bloody Valentine
by Reliak
Summary: In spite of being torn between two lovers, Omi feels that his life is perfect...until one is gone. Deathfic, Shounen ai, WiP
1. Oh my love

~

I don't own Weiss Kreuz.  Or the title, which comes from the Good Charlotte (!!) song "My Bloody Valentine."  And technically, since the plot spawned from the song, I only sort of half own it.  

Warnings: Yaoi, shounen ai, character death. 

~

My Bloody Valentine

The dark street outside the flower shop was briefly illumined by a crack of lightning.  The soothing hush of rain was broken by a nearby rumbling; all fell still again.

"Sure you wanna do this?"  Through the rapid movement of the windshield wipers smoldering blue eyes peered into the night.

"I'm sure."  A small hand reached for the door and pushed it open.  "I'll be back in-"

"Take your time."  Smirk.  "I'll wait right here."

Nodding slowly, the small figure stepped out into the sheet of rain.  The metal screen in front of the shop shot up of its own accord, and the dripping wet shadow stepped into the dark store.

He drifted through the creaking, easing building, up the stairs to the bedrooms.  The first on the right he knew well, although he'd only gone in through the door once, maybe.  Only one other room mattered, the one next to it; the lock clicked and the door swung open just as he walked up.  

The sleeping man on the bed snored softly, oblivious to his danger.  Halting beside him, the shadow stared sadly into his finely sculpted face.  He shouldn't do this..._It's worth it..._ Slowly, he reached into his pocket and drew out his .22.  He would normally have taken care of this cleanly, but the absence of wounds would be a clear giveaway that... No, it'd be better to leave them wondering.

The bullet made only a soft PFFT as it shot from the barrel, muffled by the silencer.  Blood splashed up, splattering his face and uniform with dark red.  Shivering, hot liquid burning on his cool skin, he slid the gun back into his pocket.  He backed slowly out of the room, rubbing his face clean.  The door clicked shut as he left.  He stood still for a few minutes in the middle of the hallway, breath coming short and harsh and slow.  Finally he turned and started for the stairs.

"Ken-kun?"  An indistinguishable shadow materialized at the top of the stairs, blocking his path.  "Is that you?"

Oh shit... "Omi!"  No, not him, not here, not now…

"Wha- Nagi?!"  Through the dark hall the blond boy stumbled, groping for the light.

The single yellow bulb brightened overhead.  Desperately, panicking, Nagi flung his powers upward.  The light smashed and glass shattered, raining down on the two boys in time with a crash of thunder.

Omi blindly stumbled backwards, arm flung over his eyes to shield from the falling glass.  "Wha- what are you doing here?" he asked finally, fist clenching against the pain and confusion.  

Nagi shook his head.  "N...nothing.  What are...why are you..."  _He shouldn't be here he shouldn't be here Schuldig had SWORN he wouldn't be here..._

Coming closer, Omi shot him a suspicious look.  "I live here."  He lowered his arm.  "Nagi, why are you here?" he repeated, insistent.

Nagi backed up instinctively, pressing up against the wall.  "I..."  Omi drew closer, close enough for Nagi to feel the heat off his body.  He shivered.  "I'm..."  He lost his train of thought.  "Omi!"  All plans, all lies, the purpose of all of this, were gone.  Biting back a sob, he flung himself against his former lover.  Omi stumbled slightly under the assault, arms coming up around him from reflex and familiarity.  

"Nagi..."  Omi sighed, gripping his arms loosely.  So that was it...Nagi was lonely for him.  He rested his chin on a fragile shoulder.  "It's okay.  I'm here."  Nagi crushed himself closer.

Running his fingers lightly down Nagi's arm, Omi debated how to handle this.  He took a slow, deep breath and began, "Listen, Nagi..."  He chewed lightly at his lip.  "Itoshii...You shouldn't come here any more..." he murmured in his ear.  "I love...Ken, now."  Nagi made a tiny gasp, but no other answer.  Taking that as reassurance, Omi continued, "But I still care about you...okay?  We can still be friends, if you want, and..."  He trailed off, frowning.  His fingers had rubbed over a warm spot on Nagi's sleeve, and came away sticky and wet.  Nagi was wet all over, probably from the rain, but this...He sniffed, catching the coppery scent of blood...and something else.  "Nagi, are you hurt?" he asked, pulling back from him.  

Nagi made a sound of protest as he drew back.  He reached for him, hands grazing his face.  "Omi...!"  He pressed against him tightly and Omi felt something hard press against his thigh.  Normally he would assume it was an erection, but it was in the wrong place...and the shape...He suddenly recognized the smell mixed in with the blood: gunpowder.  And in Nagi's pocket... He stepped away, gorgeous blue eyes narrowed in fear and anger.  "What are you doing here?!" he demanded, already running past him towards the closed door, the second on the right.

~Get out.~

Nagi jumped at Schuldig's mental voice, but shook his head.  ~No...~

Omi threw the door open and rushed in.

~Get out of there now!~

A hoarse shout flew through the open door.

~Don't make me come in and get you!~

"Omi?"   One of the doors across the hall swung in; a lean, well-muscled silhouette stood illuminated against the harsh bedroom light.  Abyssinian.  Gasping out, Nagi backpedaled towards the stairs.  Omi came stumbling out of Ken's bedroom at that same moment, tears streaming silently down his eyes.

Abyssinian's eyes shot from the crying Omi to the blinded Nagi to the open door behind the small blond.  "...Ken?" he asked quietly, looking at his teammate.  Omi broke into a harsh sob.

Aya turned on Nagi, violet eyes blazing.  He lunged for the fragile telekinetic.  Nagi panicked, flinging him back into the wall.  Trembling, he looked up at Omi.  "I..."  A half sob, half shriek interrupted him; Omi slumped against the wall.  Nagi swallowed.  "I love you," he whispered in apology, turning and fleeing down the stairs.

He felt more than heard Abyssinian's bare feet beating the stairs behind him.  Nagi burst through the shop, flinging the furniture, the flowers, anything, around to slow him down.  The metal screen tore away from the door and flew over his head, broadsiding the pursuing redhead.  With a cry, Aya fell to the floor.

Nagi ran out into the rain, lightning brightening his path.  The car...the car...where was the car?  Even as he was thinking it, Schuldig screeched to a halt by the curb, driving on the wrong side of the street.  Nagi jerked the door open with his powers and dove in, spilling water all over the finely upholstered leather.  

The two were soon back on the main road, driving dangerously fast for such a hard rain.  The telepath flicked a droplet of rain off his jacket and glanced down at Nagi with a grin.  "So...how'd it go?"

Glaring up at him with icy blue eyes, Nagi sank against the cold metal window and started to cry.

~*Tsuzuku*~


	2. Please don't cry

~ Chapter 2. Already. This is incredibly fast for me o.o Thanks for reading, and reviewing, to those of you who did so! ^^ I'm glad that you all enjoyed it. Did I mention that I actually enjoy getting flamed? I'm insane, I think, but they're damned fun to read. So if you really don't like it, go ahead ^^; And if you have any suggestions at all, tell me those too. I want to get better (I know there's plenty of room for improvement...) Michi told me there wasn't enough death in chapter 1 o.O I guess I'll rectify that later on ^^;;; Sankyuu~! ~  
  
My Bloody Valentine  
  
Kudou Yohji usually did not drink in the mornings. Granted, this was mostly because he wasn't usually awake in the mornings, but on the rare occasions he did get out of bed before 10 a.m. he avoided alcohol. No use stumbling around all day drunk, ne?  
  
Today, however...  
  
Yohji swirled the half-empty sake bottle and poured himself another shot. Today, however.was a special day. He lifted the shot glass to his lips and gulped the harsh liquid down. It fell to his stomach and burned with the already-drunk first half of the bottle. The glass returned to the table with a soft clink, and he reached to pour another.  
  
The quiet sound roused Omi. Dulled, pain-filled cerulean lifted to meet Yohji's eyes.  
  
The older blonde's lips quirked, and he held out the bottle. "Want some?" he asked, voice barely even slurred.  
  
Omi shook his head mutely and looked back down at the table, returning to the shredded pieces of paper in front of him. The ink had blurred with tears and rain, and most of the words and kanji were chopped in two... "Tokyo Stadium, 16/05/03, 7.00 P.M., Row 3, Section A, Seat 12...Seat 13..." He'd been out last night getting them...tickets to the J-League soccer finals...And then...to come home to...  
  
"Nagi." he hissed in a quiet voice, burying his face in his hands.  
  
"Eh?" Yohji looked up from his shot glass. "Say something, Omi-chan?"  
  
Omi shook his head, rearranging the shreds of soccer tickets with one finger.  
  
A loud clacking of heels on the linoleum kitchen floor made both lift their heads. Manx flipped through a folder slowly, not greeting the two men at first. Behind her, Aya leaned back against the wall, ice pack pressed to his forehead. His nose was set in a splint and covered in a thick white gauze. The bandages stood out sharply against the right half of his face, which was the same violet color of his eyes, bruised from the door Nagi had thrown at him. With a quiet groan, he peeled himself off the wall and joined his two remaining teammates at the table.  
  
Manx raised her head finally, looking them over. Behind her, Omi caught sight of two Kritiker paramedics bearing a body bag down the stairs. A Ken- shaped body bag. He swallowed, feeling tears he thought he'd spent pricking his eyes, and crumpled up the snow of the paper shreds in a tight fist.  
  
Sighing deeply, Manx tossed the folder onto the table. "There isn't anything I can tell you that you don't know already." She looked over the three men with a hint of sympathy in her eyes. "A direct gunshot wound to the chest...there was nothing that could be done." A moment's hesitation before taking the fourth seat at the table. "You all know...knew...there was danger. None of us expected something like, well...this."  
  
"No shit," Yohji muttered, drinking down another shot. He reached to pour another and realized no more sake was coming from the bottle.  
  
Manx ignored him, opening the folder slowly. "You all know that Ken was...legally...dead," she said, holding up a death certificate dated three years ago. "We'll have the body cremated...would you like the ashes?" The question was posed to the top of Omi's bowed head.  
  
Dulled blue eyes lifted slightly. Omi gave a tiny nod, then looked back down at his tiny fist.  
  
"Then all that's left is to move you."  
  
"Move us?!" Yohji jumped up. "Come on, we can't just run scared...Manx!"  
  
Manx shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's too dangerous here...if Schwarz knows where you are, more incidents like this could happen."  
  
Omi watched a teardrop splash from his eye onto the table. No more incidents like this would happen. Schwarz's goal here was already accomplished.  
  
Closing the folder, Manx rose to her feet. "We'll be back at 1500 hours to take you and any personal items to the temporary location." She gave a short, courteous bow, more out of habit than anything else. "Take care until then."  
  
Aya bowed back, rising from his seat. He swayed slightly on his feet, head injuries pounding painfully. Without a glance back, Manx took her leave.  
  
Yohji stared after her. "...Now what?" he asked.  
  
"We'll go clean out his room." Aya pressed the ice pack a bit more firmly to his head, steadying himself against the table. "What we'll keep and what we'll dispose of."  
  
"How fun," Yohji muttered, shoving the glass and bottle aside. "Come on, Omi-chan?"  
  
Hunched over the table, Omi watched a few more salty tears hit the grainy wood. "Aa...I..." He nodded and rose, rubbing at his eyes with his fisted hand. "...Yes." Jamming his hand into his pocket, he loosened his grip on the ticket shreds. Most clung still to his sweaty palm. It felt oddly comforting. Trying and barely succeeding at one of his trademark genki grins, he followed his last two teammates back into the room where he'd learned just how badly Nagi had ruined his life.  
  
* * *  
  
Rain pounded against the windows of the Schwarz kitchen, the only noise to break the silence. The cold drops struck the glass and slithered down, like tear-streaks on skin. A thin, pale finger followed the drops down, midnight eyes dull and listless. The window reflected his drawn face, mussed hair...even the dark circles under his tired eyes. Behind him, stirring half the bowl of sugar into his coffee, Schuldig lounged lazily in his chair, as if the night hadn't been unusual in the slightest. His hair fell forward in his face, shielding his eyes and cheek from view.  
  
In the reflection of the window, Nagi watched the kitchen door swing open and Crawford step in, rubbing his eyes painfully. It was obvious he hadn't slept any, either.  
  
Schu raised his head at his leader's entrance. "Morning," he greeted with a sassy smirk. His hair fell back from his face, revealing a large purple and blue bruise on his cheek, bearing a shape suspiciously similar to the back of Crawford's hand.  
  
The American returned his glasses to his face, sighing tiredly. Still, he managed to take the seat across from Schuldig with all of his usual grace. "...You two..." he finally began, taking the coffee from in front of Schuldig and, after studying the swirls of undissolved sugar drifting at the top, stood back up achingly and poured his own. He glanced back and forth between his two comrades, from the bruise on Schuldig's cheek to the back of Nagi's head. Finally his eyes froze on the telepath. "You still haven't answered me, Mastermind."  
  
"Answered what?" Brushing his hair with his fingers, Schuldig glanced up at him indifferently. "I already told you what happened, Crawford," he said, lips forcefully turning down to hide a smile.  
  
Crawford slammed his cup down on the table. The liquid sloshed, splashing over the wood. "Schuldig." His voice was calmer than his expression let on.  
  
"I already told you," Schu repeated, glancing at Nagi in boredom. "Step one, Nagi kills the kitten. Step two, the Bombay-kitten needs comforting and goes running back to Nagi. You should have been able to understand that by now, Crawford. It's not a complex plan."  
  
"It didn't work."  
  
Turning his head to Nagi, the telepath nodded. "Only 'cause he came home early. It would've worked." He smirked, lifting his drink to his lips, oblivious of the seething Brad that looked ready to fill him with a round.  
  
Noting the deathglare in his leader's eyes, Nagi slid away from the window, moving silently to the door. Schuldig watched him from the corner of his eye, smirk broadening over his insolent face. Crawford waited until Nagi had passed through the door to the living room before giving his telepath a matching backhanded bruise on the other cheek.  
  
Tuning out the annoyed shouts and sarcastic responses, Nagi wove his way around the motionless body leaning against the wall. Farfarello barely lifted his head as he passed, seemingly in a deep sleep, arms and legs crossed casually to hold him up.  
  
"What was the plan?" he asked, gold eye glittering open to stare at the spotless floor.  
  
Nagi turned back slowly. "...You didn't hear?"  
  
"Not all."  
  
With a quiet sigh, Nagi took up a similar position against the opposite wall. "I killed Siberian."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Bombay wasn't supposed to be home." His voice quivered slightly, but held. "He was supposed to think it was someone else...and come back to me."  
  
Farfarello finally raised his head, smiling distantly. "You can say you would kill to have him..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Would you do anything for him?"  
  
A bit surprised at the question, Nagi inclined his head. "Yes. Anything and everything."  
  
Farfarello smiled and pulled away from the wall. "That's nice," he said, voice dreamy and vague.  
  
"What is?"  
  
Laughing on the edge of maniacally, Farfie wandered away from him into the kitchen, interrupting Crawford's rant to innocently ask, "Is breakfast ready yet?"  
  
* * *  
  
The door to Ken's room hung wide open. Omi approached it warily, torn between his duty to his dead lover and the fear of going back in to a place he never wanted to see again.  
  
Yohji and Aya both looked up as he entered, eyes baring a hint of sympathy. "You okay, Omi-chan?" Yohji asked, neatly folding one of Ken's shirts.  
  
"I'm okay," the littler blond responded, not okay at all. Watching Aya and Yohji detachedly, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside a growing pile of clothes. An old J-League jersey lay on the top. HIDAKA 8. Omi picked it up, gripping the worn grass-stained cloth with both hands. His sight blurred - more tears, already? - and with a soft whimper he buried his face in the shirt.  
  
"Omi!" The bed sank under him as Yohji sat down. Two warm arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. "It's okay...it's okay..."  
  
Jerking away from the embrace, Omi collapsed on top of the pile of clothing. "It's not!" he sobbed, his tears falling on one of Ken's motorcycle jackets. "It won't ever be and I don't see how you can just not care!"  
  
Yohji shot a tense look up at Aya. "C'mon chibi...Don't say that to me...Omi, look at me." Omi curled deeper into himself. With an aggravated sigh, Yohji reached for him, gripping a hand on each shoulder and forcibly lifting Omi up. "You're not the only one who's lost someone special to you! We're all hurting just as much as you are!" Omi's face drooped down to the floor. Yohji shook his head, sliding a hand under his chin and lifting him to meet his eyes. "You hear me? You gotta move on. Ken'd be proud of you if you can carry on after him. You gonna make him ashamed of you?" Omi chewed his lip, looking up into Yohji's eyes but not responding. The elder blond sighed and reached for the jersey in his hands. "You keep this, okay? Aya thinks..." From the closet the redhead gave a derisive snort, "That we should give Ken's stuff away, but I think he'd want you to have that."  
  
Omi swallowed and looked down at the shirt gripped in his hands. "...Thanks, Yohji kun," he whispered.  
  
Yohji laughed softly. "Shouldn't be thanking me, I didn't give it to ya. Just told you to hold on to it." He offered him a small smile. "There anything else of his you want? You don't have to stay if you don't want to."  
  
Omi stood slowly, drying his eyes with the jersey. "No...there's nothing else." He looked around. "I'll...I'll stay." He looked down at the shirt in his hands and, hesitating for barely a moment, tied it around his waist the way Ken had worn his jacket. He bent down to the floor, gathering a soccer ball and several stray articles of clothing into his arms and dumping them on the bed.  
  
Between the three of them, it took an hour and a half to disassemble Ken's room.  
  
~*Tsuzuku*~  
  
Please stay for chapter 3! ~K 


	3. I wash my bloody hands

~

^^ Glad to see you're all still here.  It stops sucking now (hopefully). _~Italics and squigglies~_ are memories/flashbacks, _italics alone_ are thoughts.

~

My Bloody Valentine

When Manx had picked Weiss up to take them to their temporary locale, she had told them they were going to a hotel.  Omi hadn't considered for a second that it would be _this_ hotel, or even more specifically, this room.  The irony was not lost on him in the slightest. 

_~Nagi grinned at him.  "Mmm, 69...that's a sign from the gods if there ever was one."  He leaned over and licked Omi's cheek, eliciting a nervous shiver and a tentative moan.~_

Room 169.  Nagi had laughed when he'd seen the number, that first day.  And by the third time they'd come to this hotel the woman behind the desk knew them and, with the same knowing smirk, had handed them the key to this room.  Every time after that...how many?  He didn't remember...Nagi would lead him to the room.  Sometimes he'd jump him the moment they entered, sometimes he'd tug him gently to the bed...once he'd done him right against the door.  Nagi preferred the bottom, but sometimes...

_~"Just relax..."  Nagi shoved him down on his back.  "I don't see why you're nervous, koi.  I know how to take care of an..."  His __midnight__ eyes sparkled deviously.  "...innocent."_

_"I'm not an innocent!" Omi protested weakly.  Nagi laughed and kissed him.  Omi fell for the distraction, kissing the Schwarz back eagerly and not noticing that he was being undressed via telekinesis.  At least, not until Nagi had reached between his legs and grabbed his...~_

Omi cringed, realizing suddenly that Yohji-kun was sprawled out on the bed where he'd lost his virginity.  Ick.  

"Somethin' wrong?" Yohji mumbled from his spot on the bed.  Omi shook his head, returning to the real world for now.  He sank down on the other bed, exhausted.

Tipping his sunglasses down to see him better, the elder blond flipped over onto his side and met his eyes.  "You're lying," he pronounced solidly.  "C'mere and tell Yohji-kun what's wrong."  In a swift movement he reached across the gap between the beds, scooping Omi's smaller body into his arms and pulling him into his lap.  Omi gave a half-hearted protest before just sagging back against his chest.

Yohji let Omi get away with a few moments of silence before poking him in the shoulder.  "Talk to me, Omi-chan."

"Mnn..."  Omi looked up at him with a plaintive sigh.  "There's nothing to say."

"Liar."  Yohji shook his head at him.  "Maybe you can tell me about the other night."

Omi raised his head, his heart constricting nervously. "I...I don't want to talk about that right now, Yohji-kun..."

"Will you answer me one thing, then?"  Yohji's eyes burned into him with an unusual seriousness.  Shaking, Omi cast around for a distraction, but Aya-kun was nowhere in sight.  With a light nod, the littler blond nervously turned back to him.  Yohji took a deep breath and met his eyes firmly.  "Aya said...that that night...the Schwarz kid said he loved you."

Omi paled.  "He...I...Yohji-kun..."  Tears filled his clear blue eyes.  "I..."  Normally crying would make Yohji back down...but not today.  Stifling a sob, Omi pulled away from him, tugging his arm out of his grasp.

"Hey...Omi..."  Yohji stood up.  The boy shrank away, circling around him in a desperate dash for the door.  "Omi, wait!  I wasn't–" The door slammed.  With a tired sigh, the eldest Weiss sank to the bed, head in his hands.  

Omi swerved wildly, wavering off his course and running into walls.  He stumbled into the elevator just as it was swinging shut.  As it lowered to slowly to the bottom floor, he leaned against the back wall and covered his eyes.  Yohji had figured it out...or would soon.  Tears stung his vision.  He couldn't go back now...never.  The next time, if he ever saw Weiss again, there was no way... Choking on the sob in his throat, he dashed through the opening elevator doors, ignoring the rare and brief look of surprise on Aya's face as he ran past.  

"Omi?"  The startled redhead watched him.  _What the hell did you say to him, Yohji?_ he thought broodingly to himself, stepping onto the elevator.  Omi would be back once he'd calmed down.

Omi didn't stop until he reached the cold, dank street.  His sneakers slogged through a puddle of water, carrying him somewhere he did not know.  For a long time he wandered the streets, staring at the sky that was as cloudy as he felt.  The buildings all around him were so familiar... He and Nagi used to frequent this part of town, since neither Weiss nor Schwarz ever came around this area...

_~"...and besides, there's a great computer store down there!"  Nagi's fingers twirled in his hand.  "I get all my parts there!"  
  
"Isn't it too dangerous, being in public together?"  Omi looked down ambivalently at their joined hands.  He liked being so close to Nagi...but..._

_"It'll be fine."  Nagi's thumb stroked the back of Omi's hand slowly.  "Only thing we have to worry about is Crawford having a vision, and those are so rare..."_

_Omi wasn't convinced.  "Nagi..."_

_"It will work out," the Schwarz repeated.  "Trust me..."  Omi lifted his head as Nagi leaned in close, meeting his lips in a soft kiss...~_

Omi sighed angrily, sinking down on a bus stop bench.  He shouldn't be thinking of Nagi that way now, never, because of Ken... A drop of water splashed on his hand.  He started, thinking at first that it was a tear he hadn't been aware of, but then another fell, and another.  He looked up at the sky slowly.  Rain, again.  Tiredly, he pulled himself to his feet.  It had rained two weeks ago, too...

_~"Gyah!"__  Ken slammed the shears down on the table.  "No one else is coming, what'd'we have to keep the shop open for?"_

_Standing beside the window staring out at the sheet of rain, Omi hid a smile.  "A little rain never hurt anyone," he told him.  It didn't hurt him at all, at least.  He'd been praying, earlier, that he would be able to find some excuse to call off his date with Nagi.  Guilty relief flooded his chest.  He'd deal with his illicit lover later...he just couldn't handle it now._

_Before, when he was with Nagi, Omi felt alive...lately, however, the Schwarz only made him tired, even bored him.  If it wouldn't make him feel so guilty, he would have just broken up with him._

_But that would be too cruel._

_A hand on his shoulder jumped him out of his thoughts.  "Hey, Omi..."  Ken sounded nervous.  "Can I talk to you?"_

_"Of course."__  Omi smiled up at him and caught sight of Yohji in the background.  When had he come in?  The older blond winked at him and made a swift exit._

_Ken watched Yohji leave, glaring after him as if he had abandoned him.  "Well...uh..."  He looked down at the boy.  "Omi," he said, straightening and gaining another inch or two of height._

_"What is it, Ken-kun?" Omi asked, reading the nervous tension in his eyes._

_"Uh...Omi...I..."  Ken swallowed.  "...I like you."  He paused for a second as Omi's eyes widened.  "No!  Lemme finish...I like you...a lot...and...Fuck."  He pulled away.  "Sorry, Omi, I..."  Eyes downcast, he broke away and crossed to the other end of the room._

_Omi stared after him.  Two thoughts flew across his mind at once._

_One, Ken was kind, gentle, free-spirited...lovable.  The Nagi Anti-thesis._

_Two, this was the excuse he had been waiting for._

_His trademark smile blooming across his face, Omi crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Ken's neck.  "I do too," he whispered, nestling closer.  Ken turned back to him, smiling just as brightly, and pulled him into his arms.  _

_"Gods, Omi," Ken whispered in his ear, tilting his head back for a kiss.  Both ignored the sound of Yohji's laughter in the background.~_

Hot water droplets mingled with the cold on Omi's face.  Maybe Ken had started out as an excuse, but he'd loved him...He really had!  More than he'd ever loved Nagi, at least...He dragged his chilled body off the bench.  He had to get out of here.  Find someplace warm, somewhere he could rest and think...

His trained assassin ears never heard the footsteps in the rain, approaching him from behind.  Something jabbed him in the pressure point on his neck.  Sneakers slipping on the wet pavement, he collapsed in a pair of warm arms and fell into darkness.

* * *

_~"It's not working out..."~_

Stop it.

_~"I can't pretend anymore, koi.  I'm sorry."~_

Shut up!

_~"I love Ken."~_

"Dammit, Schu, STOP!"

Laughing, the telepath withdrew from Nagi's mind.  "But it's just so sweet...poor baby," he purred, curling up against his young teammate.  "You know what you need?"

"I don't care."  Schuldig's body jerked backwards of its own accord, sending the telepath sprawling off Nagi's bed to the floor.  

Grumbling, the redhead lifted himself up on his arms.  "Come on.  The only path to acceptance is to relive it."

"You just made that up."  Nagi fell forward against the pillows with a sad sigh.  "I just want to be alone now, Schu..."

"You're alone with me," Schuldig pointed out, climbing back up to the bed.  "Now, while you're angsting about your little love problems..."  His arm slid around Nagi's waist.

Cringing, the boy sank farther into the pillow.  "No."  
  
In a smooth movement he was flipped onto his back, with Schuldig straddling him.  "Come on, before you met Omi-chan you'd do it with me all the time..."  His hands skittered down Nagi's sides, tickling through his stiff uniform shirt.  

"Before," Nagi repeated.  He turned his head to the side, staring away from him.  

A pair of fingers started at the buttons of his shirt.  Nagi sighed, sagging against the mattress.  Fuck it.  By now he just didn't care.  He made another half-hearted sound of protest as his eyes fell shut.

His pants were almost all the way off when the door knocked.  With an aggravated sigh, Schu sat up and turned with a dark glare.  "What do you want, Farf?"

The Irishman stepped into the room.  "I wanna talk to Nagi."

"What for..."  Schu's eyes widened, and he stifled a laugh.  "Oh, that is SO worth it!"  He bounded off Nagi's body.  "All yours, Farf!" he called, leaving the room.

Nagi sat up, grateful for the distraction.  "What is it?"

"What would you do for him?" 

Nagi started dressing.  "For Schu?  Absolutely fucking nothing."

"No.  For the kitten."

The boy lifted his head.  "...anything," he whispered.

"And you want him?"

"Of course."  Nagi sighed.  "Farf, don't talk to me about thi-"

"I have a present," Farf cut in, stepping back out the door.  A moment later he returned and tossed on the bed Omi's limp, unconscious body.

~*Tsuzuku*~


	4. And we'll start a new life

~

And it looks like the "fan base" has dropped off to "friends of the authoress."  Drat.  Ahh well, this one goes out to Tal-sama and Rin!

And this time it really DOES stop sucking ^.^

~

My Bloody Valentine

Schuldig reeled backward from the blow and slammed into the far wall of the kitchen, one hand clapped against his face.  "The fuck is that-"  
  


"You told him to do that!" Crawford's voice rang into silence.  Farfarello blinked up at both of them calmly, his hands folded in his lap, as if watching Schuldig get beaten was a common occurrence.  The precognitive turned his fervent gaze on the Irishman.  "And you!  Bringing a _Weiss_ here!"

"Nagi said so," Berserker responded simply.  

  
"He said nothing of the sort!"

"'Would you do anything for him?' said I. 'Yes, anything.'  'Do you want him?' 'Aye.'"

Pausing in rubbing his poor bruising face, Schuldig laughed.  "Nagi doesn't say 'Aye.'  That's just you, Farfie."

Farfarello nodded slowly.  "But he said everything else."  He bobbed his head for emphasis.  "I remember.  You can ask him."

"It doesn't _matter_!" Crawford snapped, returning the focus to himself. "What the hell are we supposed to do with a _Weiss_?  The _leader_ of Weiss?  Dammit, Schuldig-"  He turned around, glaring death at the hapless telepath.  "What were you thinking?!"

"I didn't make him do anything!"  Schuldig lowered his hand from his bruise-battered face.  "Everything he did was his idea!"

"I don't care whose idea it was!"

"Then stop whining!"  Schu rolled his eyes.  "If you're gonna keep complaining, we can just go up right now and..."  
  
"What?  Kill him?"  Brad advanced on him slowly.  "And what do you think that will do to Nagi?  Do you _want_ a depressed telekinetic living in your home, Schuldig?  Where he could drag the walls down around you any second...tear your heart out of your chest...crush-"

"Fuck, I get it."  Schuldig sighed, afraid of neither the threats coming out of his mouth or the enraged look in his eyes.  "Dammit, I get it...my teammates are all out for my blood..."  

"You're just mad 'cause Crawford's bruising your pretty face," Farfarello accused demurely, perfectly calm and still in his chair.

"Maybe I am."  Quite suddenly, Schu's face broke into his usual devil's grin.  "But then again..."  He pushed himself away from the wall.  "If that's what Brad likes..."  He reached up, sliding his arms around the American's neck.  "I'm fine with that..."

Used to the flirting, Crawford only sighed and took hold of the redhead's wrists.  "Not now," he hissed in his ear, lightly but firmly pushing him away.  A slight, barely perceivable flicker of hurt flashed through the telepath's eyes and died.  

"Whatever."  He smiled disarmingly.  "In that case, I'll leave you two alone."  He nodded to the Irishman.  "Good luck, Farf."  Brushing his bloody mane off his shoulder, he turned on his heel and vanished from the kitchen.

Crawford stared after him for a moment before turning back to Farfarello.  "Far-"  He trailed off as the images before him shifted sharply.  His whole body fell still, his arms dropping to his sides, as he watched events not unfolding any time or place near here.  

Once the visions were done he sighed, his eye sight returning slowly to normal.  Familiar with the look, Farfarello sat in silence, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table.  He barely even registered when Crawford pulled out the chair and sank down.  "Farfarello..."

"Yes?"

"...nothing.  Just...don't let this happen again."    
  
The Irishman nodded and rose.  He knew better than to ask what Crawford had seen.  He padded quietly out of the room, leaving the precognitive to stare dully at his hands.

* * *

"Omi..."  Something warm snuggled up against his side.  "...really here...Omi..."  The blond groaned softly, leaning into the embrace.  Whatever was beside him laughed.  "Yes...my Omi, mine mine mine..."  Something soft and wet pressed against his mouth, moving slowly over his lips.

Omi sighed, blinking his crystalline eyes open slowly to stare at whatever was kissing him.  He met closed eyelids at first, but the thin face, the taste of the mouth against his he knew well...

He lay in a stupor for a minute more before remembering Ken, Nagi and the gun, running out on Yohji.  He cried out, scrambling backwards and tearing his lips from his ex-lover's.

  
Nagi fell forward, losing balance until he caught himself with his powers.  He tumbled to an unsteady halt on top of Omi, sprawled out over his body.  "Koi-"

"Shut up!"  Omi shoved him away and fell off the bed to the floor.  "Shut up!  I'm not your koi!"    
  
Nagi stared after him, crawling to the edge.  "Omi..."

"Stay away from me!"  Tears in his eyes, Omi jumped to his feet and ran for the door.

Nagi didn't think to use his powers until Omi had pulled the door open.  Crying out, he threw his telekinetic "rope" forward, circling it around the blond and dragging him back.  As useless as it was to struggle, Omi fought as hard as he could, kicking and screaming against the invisible hold.  

Nagi drew him into his arms, holding him to still his thrashing.  "Omi...Omi, please!"

"Let go of me!  I hate you!"  Omi struggled to pry Nagi's hands off him, although he still had telekinesis to fight against.  "I hate you I hate you I hate you I-"  His jaw suddenly snapped closed; no matter how he tried he couldn't speak, only make wordless close-mouthed screams.

Nagi moved out from behind him and held him down to the bed with his powers, circling around to straddle him.  "Omi...Omi...please...I'm sorry..."  He took hold of his hands.  "Will you listen to me?"  Omi glared at him, shaking his head violently No.  "Omi!"  Nagi fell onto him, burying his face in his neck.  "Omi...I didn't want to...I didn't...I...it was Schuldig!  Schuldig's idea!  He said..."  He choked on a sob, crushing his body up against him.  "He said...to make it look like someone else...and I'd get you back...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

Omi glared at the top of his head, twitching under the hold.  And was THAT supposed to make him love Nagi?!  He was granted enough liberty to turn his head away and stare at the far wall.

Nagi shuddered.  "Omi...Listen, please, please..."  He clutched his hand tightly.  "I'm sorry...I just...I love you, I love you so much, Omi, Omi..."

Nagi, Nagi, _NAGI._ Omi clenched his eyes shut.  Ken, Ken, Ken...Nagi killed Ken and Ken was dead...

"Omi!"  
  


But Nagi was so sad...

"Omi, please!"

And Ken had been to take him away from Nagi...

"I love you, I love you..."

He'd loved him once too, hadn't he?

"Look at me, Omi, please!"  
  


What kind of bastard was he?  

His mouth could work again.  Omi swallowed.  "N...Nagi..."

Nagi looked up hopefully.  "Yes?"

Omi sat up, his arms loosely hanging around him.  "I..."  _Don't forgive him.  Forgive him.  Do I?  _"...it's all right."

"It is?"  Nagi's eyes glistened.  "Omi..."

"...I don't..."

Silence.

"...you don't what?"

"I don't...know..."

Nagi smiled through his tears.  God, was he gorgeous...Ken never cried, ever.  He was so strong...but was that a good thing?  

"I've missed you."  Salty lips reached up and pressed against his.  Even through the tears he knew the distinct taste...he'd always thought that Nagi tasted sweeter than Ken.

Nagi's hands were wandering.  Omi shifted against the touches, not wanting this now...especially not now.  

Sighing in protest, Nagi made his whole body go still.  "Omi...please?  For me?"

Omi shook his head.  "Na-"

"Just remember like it used to be?"  A pale, slender hand was sliding up his shirt.    
  
Omi tensed.  No... He gasped as a chilled pair of fingers tickled his chest, tracing the firm lines of muscle.  "Ken..." he gasped out, barely a whisper.

Nagi didn't hear him, too caught up was he in what he was doing.  He kissed Omi again, stretching out all over him, pressing their bodies so close their skin seemed to melt together.  Omi gasped out as the world around him grew hazier and hazier... By the time Nagi had him in his hand he really ceased caring who it was, what they were doing.  He closed his eyes, letting himself fade off into a familiar, strangely painful rhythm.

* * *

Aya paced their hotel room wall for the sixth time that night.  "Where the hell is he?" he demanded, whirling on Yohji.  "Where would he have gone?!"

"I don't know, stop asking me!"  Yohji glared back at him.  "Dammit, I didn't even say anything to him..."  
  
"You accused him of sleeping with the _enemy_."

"I didn't accuse him of anything!  I was just-"

"And because of that he's lost in the streets of Tokyo."  
  
Yohji shook his head.  "Omi can't get lost here, he knows it too-"

"Yohji!"  Fujimiya advanced on him dangerously.  "If he's not here in five minutes, you and I are leaving.  And we will not come back until we find him."

Yohji glared at him.  "I'm just as worried as you are, but I'm not getting all anal about it..."  He stood up, grabbing his trench-coat.  "Fuck it.  Let's go now."  He started for the door.  "Better than waiting around with you."  
  


Glowering after him, Aya followed, snatching up his katana on the way out.  "Take your cell phone."  
  
"I have it."

"If you get any clues, call."  
  
"No shit."  Yohji rolled his eyes and breezed off towards the elevator.

With a heavy sigh Aya turned away from him, starting in the opposite direction across the hotel floor.  He'd take the stairs.  

* * *

He shouldn't feel so cold, not with a warm body so close...Omi groaned, shifting towards the warmth.  It didn't make him feel any better.  He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the blankets draped over his and Nagi's bodies.  

He'd never shared this view with Ken.  
  
Fighting tears, Omi disentangled himself from Nagi's embrace and reached for his clothes.  If any, now was the time to run... He dressed, heedless of the fluids smeared over his body, and reached for the door.    
  
It opened before he touched it.  Omi stepped back, his eyes wide, as the door swung all the way open, revealing the two eldest members of Schwarz.  Schuldig had a length of rope draped across his arms like an anaconda, smiling just as lethally as a snake himself.  Crawford's eyes, however, were stoic.  

"Good evening, Bombay."

~*Tsuzuku*~


End file.
